Heathers (genderbent)
by 80snerd
Summary: Vance Sawyer is trapped in a high school gang known as the Heathers. Being one of the most popular guys in school comes at a price: to drag down as many people as you can. When he finds solace in the form of Jennifer Dean, a darkly-inclined girl with a taste for murder, did Vance get more than he bargained for? Will he tame his dangerous girl, or is their love truly God?
1. Greetings And Salutations

1\. Greetings And Salutations

Vance Sawyer sat with his back to his locker, as the other teenagers walked through the halls. They drifted past him in a blur, as he began to write in his journal, cleverly hidden in his school notebook.

 _September 15th, 1988_

 _I hate my friends. I know, what a revelation, right?_

 _I remember how elated I felt when Heathcliff Chandler came up to me and allowed me to be a part of his group. The Heathers were feared by everyone in Westerburg High. If anyone even **looked** at them funny, they were socially destroyed. They made sure that everyone in school knew their place. They maintained order, they kept us all in check._

 _They never even noticed me until Heaton Duke saw me perfectly forge my doctor's signature to get out of sports one day. While he thought I was a "sissy" for wanting to get out of doing sports (his word), he thought I had a gift._

 _I was suddenly useful to them, and thus, I was recruited to become a Heather._

 _That moment should have been the beginning of the rest of my life; forever revelling in the ecstasy caused by hundreds of eyes gawking at me as I walked down the halls._

 _It didn't last._

 _It only took a day for me to realise that I was much better off living as a nobody, than feeling enslaved by my three new horrible friends. **A FUCKING DAY.** They were so hateful to everyone, and no one deserved it. But all I could do was just let it happen._

 _I was just their puppet, and I wish they'd all just d_

"Son of a bitch!" Vance shrieked, as Heath McNamara kicked him in the shin, causing him to stop writing. He quickly threw the books back into his bag.

He looked up to see the three Heathers stood above him in their usual places; Heathcliff in the middle, Heaton and Heath stood either side of him.

"Cafeteria. _Now_." Heathcliff glared coldly, before swiftly exiting the hall, his two henchmen trailing behind.

Rolling his eyes, Vance stood up and reluctantly followed them.

As they made their way into the cafeteria, Vance looked out at the sea of rich kids, jocks, cheerleaders, stoners, nerds and social rejects; trying to predict which one of them would be on Heathcliff's hit list that day.

At the table right at the far back, he spotted a girl. She had long dark hair, and was dressed all in black with a leather jacket. The girl was sat all alone, but she didn't seem to mind. Vance didn't recognise her, so he guessed she may have been a new student.

The girl locked eyes with Vance, giving him a confused glance, followed by a smile.

He decided to smile back.

"Now, Vance." Heathcliff began, breaking his concentration. "Before we get started with the lunchtime poll, I need you to do something for me. You see Martin Dumptruck over there?"

He turned his head to see a slightly overweight boy, casually eating his lunch with the other unpopular kids. His real name was Martin Dunnstock, but everyone nicknamed him 'Dumptruck' because of his size. It sickened Vance to think of just how insensitive that was.

"This morning, the dickhead just walked straight into me," he continued angrily. "And I hear he has a bit of a thing for Kristen Kelly...I mean, who doesn't, right?"

"She's hot." Heath added.

"Anyway, I need you to forge a love letter in her handwriting."

Vance raised an eyebrow. "Seriously, Heathcliff? I don't have anything against the guy."

"So, you have something against _me_? Against _the Heathers_?"

"We _saved_ you, Vance." Heaton chimed in. "We dragged you out of isolation, we lifted you out of the pit of hell that you were in. We're practically saints!"

 _A bit dramatic,_ Vance thought to himself.

"And you won't even do us this one favour?" Heathcliff said in mock sadness. "So, this is the thanks we get."

"Fine, I'll do it." He sighed.

"Good. Heaton, bend over."

Without hesitation, Heaton Duke bent over so that Vance could use his back as a table to pen the letter. Taking out one of this notebooks from his bag, he began to write as Heathcliff dictated exactly what he wanted him to say.

 _Dear Martin,_

 _You're so sweet. I've liked you for a long time. I wish you'd come and sit with me and my cheerleader friends; I'd love for everyone to know how I feel about you. I know you like me too, and we shouldn't hide our feelings anymore._

 _Love, Kristen x_

When the note was written, Heaton stood up and Vance tore the page from his book, folding the piece of paper up. Heathcliff nodded at Heath, in some sort of unspoken code, and he crept up to Martin, dropping the note onto his tray without him noticing. Quickly, Heath walked back to his friends.

"So, what's the lunchtime poll question, Heathcliff?" Heaton asked.

"Heaton, you were there when I wrote it!"

"...I forgot."

"Well, here it is: you inherit five million dollars. And, on the same day, aliens land on the Earth and say that they're gonna blow it up in two days. What do you do?"

Heathcliff looked to his friends with wide, excited eyes, clearly very proud of his question. It took a few seconds for it to register, but Heath and Heaton soon looked on board with the idea. Vance, however, was just cynical.

"I'm a genius, right?" He chuckled. "Come on, Sawyer, let's go and ask the cheerleaders and football team."

The two of them got out of their seat and as they wandered through the hall, Vance caught sight of the new girl he had seen earlier. She was still looking back at him, with a slightly bemused manner.

"Do we have to restrict the question to just _them_?" Vance asked Heathcliff.

"Who else are we gonna ask? _Benny Finn_?" He replied sarcastically. "Come on, Vance; you're a Heather now. You're above all the nobodies. All the girls either want you as a friend or a fuck. You can sleep with any girl on the cheerleading team."

"But I don't want to sleep with any of them."

"You're being ridiculous," said Heathcliff, before beckoning him over to a group of jocks.

"I just think we should talk to different types of people," Vance tried to reason with him. "The more answers the better, right?"

"... _Fine_."

The lunchtime poll question had been answered by almost everyone, creating a bizarre range of answers. With every second that Heathcliff had to spend with the unpopular people, he felt his mental state deteriorating. _How dare they breathe the same air as me?_ He thought.

"Vance! Look, look!" Heathcliff nudged Vance suddenly, watching the scene unfold before him.

Martin Dunnstock had read the forged note, and the widest grin possible spread across his clueless face. As he began to approach Kristen's table, Vance's stomach began to churn.

 _The poor guy,_ he thought pityingly. _He doesn't need this._

"Hi, Kristen..." Martin smiled shyly.

Kristen looked at her best friend, Rose, and she tried to suppress a laugh. "Can I help you, Dumptruck?"

The poor kid seemed to be sweating. "I...I just wanted to know...if I could...maybe...sit with you? I got your note."

"What?" Kristen asked in amusement.

Martin's face dropped. "The note...the one you left on my tray?...You said you liked me-"

Kristen Kelly and Rose Sweeney erupted into a fit of laughter at the very thought of this. "I never sent you a note! Why would I like _you_?"

"Hey, everybody!" Rose yelled out suddenly, standing up and grabbing everyone's attention. "Martin Dumptruck thinks Kristen likes him!"

Right on cue, the whole cafeteria was filled with everyone cruelly chuckling at Martin's expense, except for Benny Finn, Vance and, obviously, Martin - who proceeded to quickly leave the room; his face tomato red.

Vance glanced at the mysterious new girl, and she instantly held eye contact again. This time she was shaking her head slowly at him, looking disappointed. Whether she was disappointed in Vance, the Heathers or anyone else, he wasn't sure. However, he was just relieved to find another person who didn't find that prank funny at all.

Then he realised that she had been the only person in the room who hadn't been asked the lunchtime poll question.

"Are we done with the poll?" Vance asked the Heathers, who were all still laughing.

"I guess so," Heaton shrugged. "It looks like we've asked everyone."

"Well...we could ask _her_...couldn't we?" He asked, directing his gaze to the new girl.

"Jennifer Dean? _Really_?" Heath sighed.

"How do you know her?"

"She's in my American History," he told him. "I guess she transferred recently, I don't know. I've never spoken to her, she seems weird."

"Okay, then I'll ask Jennifer myself." Vance said, a smirk beginning to form on his lips.

He wandered down to her table right at the back of the cafeteria, not looking away from each other. Jennifer started to smile back.

"Hello, Jennifer Dean." Vance grinned.

"Greetings and salutations," she giggled. "You're not a Heather, are you?"

"Oh god, no," he replied, making a face. "I'm Vance Sawyer. I hope you don't mind, but I need to ask you a question."

"Fire away, Vance." Jennifer replied positively, leaning back casually in her chair.

He was slightly stunned by her personality. Jennifer seemed to be a loner, and because of that, Vance expected her to be one of those shy, quiet personality types. Yet, that seemed to be the complete opposite. The way she spoke and carried herself in conversations gave that away; she exuded so much confidence.

"You inherit five million dollars," he told her. "Then aliens land on the Earth and say that they're gonna blow it up in two days. What do you do with the money?"

Jennifer hesitated. "That's the stupidest question I've ever heard."

"Trust me, I know."

She thought about it for a little while. "Well...let's say you and I take a boat out into the middle of a lake somewhere. I'll bring along a bottle of tequila, my sax and some Bach. Would you like that, Vance?" Jennifer said smoothly, on the verge of being seductive.

Vance was almost speechless. It seemed as though she was coming onto him, and he couldn't tell if he was attracted to her, or unnerved by her. Maybe it was both.

"How...very-"

"Vance, let's get outta here." Heathcliff huffed. As it had turned out, Vance was so enthralled by Jennifer that he didn't notice Heathcliff walking up to him.

He sighed, before turning back to Jennifer. "Later."

"Definitely." She winked.

Heathcliff dragged Vance away, after shooting Jennifer a death glare. In response, she gave him a wry smile.

"What's your damage, Heathcliff?" Vance asked him as they headed off to the other side of the lunch hall.

" _My_ damage?" He retorted. "Says the guy who seemed to be getting a little too friendly with Joan Jett over there. I don't like her, Sawyer."

"You don't even know her."

"Neither do you," he said coldly. "And I suggest you keep it that way, otherwise you'll be cut off."

Kristen and Rose had been watching Jennifer's interactions with Vance for the entire time, and seemed equally as suspicious.

"She looks so _weird_ ," Rose said in disgust. "Who wears all black and nothing else?"

Kristen appeared to be furious. "Did you see the way she was talking to Vance Sawyer? She was clearly flirting with him! He's meant to be _my_ date to the prom!"

"He hasn't actually asked you yet, Kristen."

"No, but he will. As long as that bitch doesn't get in there first." She replied. "Besides, I have to, because you're going with Heath McNamara, and everyone else on the squad is already paired up. Anyway, I'm way hotter than that...that _thing_ over there!"

"Vance would be an idiot to choose that girl over you," Rose agreed. "I say we teach her a lesson."

The two cheerleaders strutted over to Jennifer's table, ready to tear her apart, emotionally. They both took seats on the opposite side, without her permission. Although they tried to intimidate her, Jennifer's expression did not appear to change.

"Hi. You're new here, so we'll go easy on you, for now." Kristen fake smiled at her. "But, you know that guy you were just talking to? Yeah...he's my prom date, and therefore, off-limits. Being new, you probably wouldn't have known that, but now that you do, there's no excuse. Back off."

"Yeah, this school has a no sluts allowed rule," Rose added.

Jennifer continued to lean back in her chair coolly, unfazed by the threat. "Well, they seem to have an open door policy for assholes though, don't they?"

The two cheerleaders looked at each other, somewhat shocked.

"I'm sorry," Kristen scowled. "Did you just call us assholes?"

"You didn't hear me?" Jennifer grinned. "Allow me to repeat myself."

In that moment, she got out of her chair, and pulled a gun out of her jacket pocket. Kristen and Rose screamed, instinctively getting out of their chairs. Everyone turned around to see what all the trouble was.

BANG. BANG.

Jennifer Dean fired two gunshots, then sat down as if nothing had happened.

The shots had just been blanks, but it was enough to petrify the cheerleaders into dashing out of the cafeteria. It looked as though they wouldn't be messing with her again.

The whole room was silent.

"Do you like her _now_?" Heathcliff muttered to Vance.

Vance could barely focus on what he was saying, as his eyes could not move away from Jennifer Dean. He was even more enchanted by her than he was before.

And he couldn't explain why.


	2. The Dick In The Red Blazer

2\. The Dick In The Red Blazer

After school ended that day, Vance and the Heathers went back to his house to play a game of croquet in the garden. That was another reason they wanted to be friends with him; his parents were wealthy, just like their parents. That was another important factor of their friendship. All they wanted was to take advantage of him.

However, that was not on Vance's mind. There was only one thing the four of them could think about, and that was Jennifer Dean threatening Kristen and Rose with a gun.

"She'd better get expelled for that," Heath said bitterly. "What kind of maniac brings a gun into school?"

"I don't know, I thought it was pretty funny, seeing them running scared like that." Vance grinned.

Heathcliff narrowed his gaze at Vance. "She could have killed them. They should throw the bitch in jail."

"Lighten up, Heathcliff, they were just blanks."

He looked to his friend in outrage, slowly approaching him. In the background, Heaton looked down at his shoes, trying not to burst out laughing. Speaking in that tone to Heathcliff Chandler was just a deathwish.

"I'm sorry, Sawyer?" He said quietly. "Did you just talk _back_ to me?"

Vance said nothing, looking anxious.

"Jennifer Dean is a waste of oxygen, just like all the other nobodies of Westerberg." Heathcliff continued loudly, turning his back on him. "She will never amount to anything, and fuck it, I say that prison is too good for her. And _that_ , Heathers, is the final word on the subject. Now, are you all ready for me to beat your asses at croquet or not?"

Vance and Heath stood around sheepishly, until Heaton piped up. "Hey, Heathcliff? Do you think, maybe this time, I could be red?"

His friends looked at him, stunned. That was just not a question you were ever allowed to ask him. Red was _always_ Heathcliff's colour, everyone knew that.

"Did you have a brain tumour for breakfast?" He asked, irritated. "I'm always red. You'll always be green, Heath's always yellow and Vance is always blue. That's the system, and if you don't like it, that's tough shit. Never ask me a dumb question like that again."

After a few rounds of croquet, Heathcliff approached Vance. "Do you have any plans for tonight?"

"Well, I was gonna-"

"Cancel them," he told him. "All of them. I'm taking you to a college party."

Vance was confused. "Tonight? Why?"

"I'm gonna introduce you to some real, mature, sophisticated people. I'm interested to see how you behave in that situation, Vance. And if you do well and try your hardest not to embarrass me, you just might be a Heather."

 _"And, hopefully, getting you laid by a hot college girl will take your mind off of that Jennifer Dean,"_ Heathcliff thought to himself.

Vance frowned, a piece of him dying on the inside. The last thing he wanted was to go to a college party littered with drugs, alcohol and drunk students. That just wasn't his idea of fun.

After a little while longer, the Heathers were getting ready to leave.

"See you tonight, Sawyer. Don't let me down."

Vance was about to head indoors, when he saw his parents sit in the garden at the outdoor table.

"Vance, honey, come and take a break!" His mother called him.

He sat in the empty chair next to his parents, helping himself to some pate that they had a brought out as a snack.

"So, how was school?" She smiled.

Vance shrugged. "It was okay, I guess."

"Found a girl you can take to the prom, yet?" His father asked him.

He hesitated, thinking back to the gorgeous yet crazy new girl he had met earlier that day. Sure, he barely knew her, but she was the only one he could think of actually wanting to take. He knew that Heathcliff would never allow it, but that didn't mean he wasn't able to dream.

"...I guess..."

"Have you asked her?"

"Not yet, but I'm just waiting for the right time."

Later that night, Heathcliff picked Vance up in his car, and the two were on their way to college, before they took a pit stop and Heathcliff made Vance go into the Snappy Snack Shack.

"Don't forget the Corn Nuts!" Heathcliff yelled out to him from the car window.

"BQ or plain?"

"BQ!" He shouted. "And make it quick; I don't wanna be late!"

Vance turned around and, after rolling his eyes, he made his way into the store.

As he was browsing through the snacks, he heard a familiar voice appear from behind.

"Well, looks like we meet again, Vance Sawyer."

He turned around, and instantly beamed when he saw Jennifer stood there, chewing on a red vine. Her ebony black hair cascaded elegantly past her shoulders, her green eyes lighting up mischeviously. Vance was captivated, and he could have sworn that she had cast some sort of spell on him, or more realistically, had him brainwashed.

But he didn't care.

"Hi," he grinned. "You know, I never thought I'd see you in a place like this."

Jennifer laughed. "Yeah, I get your point. I guess it's because I've moved around the country a lot. I've lived in Dallas, Baton Rouge, Vegas...everywhere, really. The places change, but the Snappy Snack Shack doesn't. It's like home to me; it keeps me sane."

"Really?" Vance replied. 'Sane' was not a word he would use to describe Jennifer Dean, judging from his first impression of her. "That thing you pulled in the cafeteria today was pretty severe."

"Yeah? Well, I guess the extreme always seems to make an impression..."

As he looked at her, Vance began to feel himself blush. Feeling awkward, his deep brown eyes flickered away.

Jennifer started to blush, herself. She was never really attracted to guys like Vance Sawyer, but it was as though she saw something in him.

Whatever it was, she was smitten.

"Want a slushie?" Jennifer smiled. "My treat."

Vance looked out of the window, seeing Heathcliff drum his fingers impatiently on the car door. "I'd love to, but my friend's waiting. I promised him I wouldn't be too long."

"Your friend?" She raised an eyebrow. "...Don't tell me, it's that dick in the red blazer?"

"That's him."

"...Let him wait," Jennifer grinned. "Just let me buy you a slushie, please?"

Vance nodded. "Okay, what the hell?"

After all, he was having a much better time in the company of Jennifer Dean than he ever did with the Heathers. After giving in, Jennifer bought them both cherry flavoured slushies and they walked out of the store without a care in the world.

"So, what brings you to Ohio?" Vance asked her.

"My mom made us move here," she replied. "She's the founder of this company that blows up buildings and stuff. It's pretty demanding, so we can never settle in one city."

"Wait...Jennifer 'Dean'..." he pondered. "So, is that Big Bud Dean Construction?"

"Yeah, that's it. It was named after my dad; they sort of co-created the company." She sighed. "Anyway, what about you? Your life seems quite perfect here."

They were both interrupted by the horn of Heathcliff's car, as he beeped Vance, frustrated. Vance had completely forgotten about his presence, and his heart sank. He realised that he would be screamed at the moment that he got back in that car, but that didn't stop him from taking his time having a conversation with Jennifer.

"My life is far from perfect," he told her, sadly. "I don't like my friends."

Jennifer directed her gaze towards Heathcliff's car, then back to Vance. "Weird; I don't like your friends either."

"I don't blame you," he chuckled. "I'd rather spend my evening at home watching TV and, here I am, on my way to a party at Remington University that I just wanna miss. Being friends with the Heathers is like a full time job."

"Well..." she said, empathetically. "Maybe it's time you took a vacation."

Vance smiled back, finally starting to feel a sense of hope. In a school of mindless zombies that worshipped the Heathers and the ground they walked on, he at last found someone else who shared a distaste for them.

Then Heathcliff Chandler beeped him again and he had to leave.


	3. Reindeer Games

**Author's Note: I can only apologise for the character of Bella (genderbent version of college guy, Brett - the guy who was hitting on Veronica at the Remington party). She's meant to be absolutely wasted, and the way I've written most of her dialogue is how I imagine her speaking.**

 **Enjoy! :)**

3\. Reindeer Games

Heathcliff Chandler and Vance Sawyer arrived at Remington University, home to many drunken frat boys. Heathcliff locked his car, and putting the keys in his pocket, he swaggered towards the door, a determined smile on his face. Vance dragged behind, feeling somewhat self-conscious. If he sometimes felt like a small fish in a big pond in Westerberg High, then Remington would be a shock to the system.

They entered the dimmed hallway, the strong scent of beer, cigarettes and vomit lingered in the air. There were crowds of students drinking, smoking, laughing, kissing and throwing up. A few doors were locked with 'Do Not Disturb' signs hanging on them. Vance and Heathcliff tried to get around the drunks like a maze.

After entering one of the rooms, they were greeted by two of the college girls. Heathcliff knew one of them, and that's how they got invited to the party.

"Vance, this is Bella," he said, gesturing to the girl's friend.

Bella flipped her brunette hair over one shoulder and flashed him a seductive smile. Vance could practically _smell_ the liquor on her breath already. "ExCeLlEnT...cOmE oN, VaNcE, lEt'S gO sOmEwHeRe PrIvAtE..."

Vance looked to his friend desperately for an escape, but Heathcliff just chuckled. "Have fun, you guys."

Bella grabbed Vance's wrist tightly, leading him out of that room and into another empty room. With every second that he was forced to be there, he wished that he had just said no to Heathcliff in the first place.

Vance drank bottles of beer and vodka, thinking that he would be less miserable if alcohol clouded his worried mind.

"ArEn'T yOu GoNnA kIsS mE?" Bella slurred.

"I don't know you." Vance frowned, downing another bottle.

"CoMe On," Bella laughed, draping an arm around him, barely able to support herself up. "I wOn'T tElL aNyOnE!"

"No."

"Oh," she whispered, putting a finger to her lips, still giggling. "Do YoU hAvE a GiRlFrIeNd? I wOn'T tElL hEr. THiS'lL bE oUr LiTtLe SeCrEt."

"I don't have..." Vance sighed, deciding that finishing that sentence would be useless. "Look, just forget it. I'm not kissing you. You're intoxicated."

"It'S a PaRtY, dUmBaSs!" Bella protested, her speech becoming less coherent. "DAAAAAmN, yOu HiGh ScHoOl GuYs ArE sO bOrInG!"

Vance leaned forward, burying his head in his hands.

Meanwhile, Heathcliff was kissing Dina, the girl who had invited him to Remington. Dina was just as drunk as Bella, as were most of the other students. She clung onto his face as they kissed, and Heathcliff slowly pulled away.

"Dina, this is great, but why don't we go back to the party?" He asked her.

"Yeah, sure, later." She quickly brushed off his question, before smashing her lips back onto his. Heathcliff didn't want to admit it, but even he was feeling a little out of his depth at Remington University; all these people were interested in was sex, drugs and alcohol, whereas high school was slightly more tame. Of course, he couldn't tell anyone that; him and Vance were representing Westerberg, and if either one of them did anything embarrassing, they would be a laughing stock.

 _"Not that I could ever do anything embarrassing; I'm perfect."_ He thought to himself. _"It's just Vance I've gotta watch out for."_

Vance was having the worst time of his life, dealing with Bella. They were sat on a sofa, and he felt his mind go numb after listening to her ramble on about her exes and "how the only thing anyone wants to know about her is what her major is". When she picked up yet another bottle, he tried to make a grab for it.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" He asked quickly.

"YoU'rE jOkInG, rIgHt?" She burst out laughing, taking another sip. "HoNeY, I'm JuSt GeTtInG sTaRtEd."

After a minute, she put the bottle down, no longer laughing.

"I gotta go puke."

She dashed out of the living room area and into the nearest bathroom, disgusting heaving sounds emanating from the door.

"Sure. Take your time." Vance said, sarcastically.

Vance, himself, was slightly worse for wear, although nowhere even close to Bella. On the coffee table nearby, there was a cigarette lighter. Without acknowledging what he was doing, he picked it up.

 _"How tempting would it be,"_ he started thinking to himself. _"To just catch this lighter against a curtain or something, and watch this gross place go up in flames, with all the gross people trapped inside...especially Heathcliff Chandler..."_

He opened the lighter, revealing the tiny flame inside. The way it glowed against the darkened room mystified Vance, somehow. A small smile appeared on his face.

Instantly, he snapped the lid back onto it.

 _"That's horrible! How could I think of doing something like that?"_

With a stab of guilt, he looked out of the nearest window. It was only a couple of feet from the ground, and right outside there was a trashcan. As an attempt to erase the sick thoughts starting to fill his mind, he threw the lighter into the bin, and it caught on fire. However, it was only contained within the trashcan, and would not spread to the house.

"VaNcE?" Bella called from the toilet. "WhAt WaS tHaT nOiSe?"

"Oh shit."

Obviously, Bella would be too plastered to remember anything, but Vance could not stand to be in the presence of that girl for a second longer.

Before she could walk back in, he sprinted out of that room, and back through the crowded doorway. It was there that he found Heathcliff, stood against the wall, drinking.

He grinned at him. "So, did you have fun with Bella?"

Vance's stomach grumbled, filling his mouth with a sour taste. It seemed as though his hangover was starting early.

"Heathcliff..." he breathed heavily. "I don't feel so good. Can we please leave now?"

"Hell no, Sawyer!" He told him. "We're not going anywhere!"

Before he could argue back, Vance proceeded to vomit all over Heathcliff's expensive suede shoes. Not wanting to cause a scene, Heathcliff didn't raise his voice at him, but just decided to grit his teeth and bare it.

After he was done, Vance walked out of the front door. Heathcliff stormed after him, furiously.

"You stupid fuck!" Heathcliff snapped, as they headed out into the cold dark air.

Vance turned around, the level of alcohol in his bloodstream helping him to be less afraid of Heathcliff Chandler. "You goddamn dick!"

"Where do you think you'd be without me?" He enraged. "You'd still be hanging around with Benny Finn! You'd be a nobody and no one would remember your name. But I got you out of that cess pit, Sawyer. I took you to a party at _Remington University_ , of all places! And what's my thanks? It's on the hallway carpet! I got paid in _puke_!"

Vance wiped his mouth, scowling. "Lick it up, baby. _Lick. It. UP._ "

Heathcliff was slightly taken aback by how Vance was responding to him. He was used to his friends and, well, _everyone_ cowering in fear, especially if they double-crossed him. But Vance was standing strong.

 _"Oh no,"_ he thought. _"We can't have that, now can we?"_

"You'll never get away with this, Sawyer." Heathcliff said coldly. "Come Monday morning, the whole school will know everything. Transfer to Washington, transfer to Jefferson, I don't care. No one at Westerberg's gonna let you play their reindeer games."

Heathcliff began to ditch him, walking in the direction towards his car.

"Uh...Heathcliff?" Vance called after him. "You're still my ride home!"

"Tough shit; you can walk!"

Heathcliff got back into his car, slamming the door and sharply driving far off into the distance. Vance stood outside, cold and alone, a revolting taste in his mouth and stranded outside of a college party.

 _"On the plus side,"_ he thought to himself. _"At least I'm not friends with Heathcliff Chandler anymore."_


	4. Dreadful Etiquette

4\. Dreadful Etiquette

Vance walked through the front door of his house, his parents had picked him up after Heathcliff abandoned him at Remington. He knew he should have been grateful that they had driven all that way, but the journey home made it very difficult for him to be:

 _"Well, no wonder Heathcliff didn't give you a lift home; you threw up all over him." His mother said._

 _"_ Mom _," Vance whined, rubbing his temple. He was beginning to sober up, but was left with an awful headache. "I couldn't help it, alright? I didn't even wanna go to that stupid party, he forced me."_

 _"Nonsense, you could've said no, dear."_

 _"Yeah," his dad added while driving. "Heathcliff's a good kid, he wouldn't force you to do anything."_

 _"_ Unbelievable," _Vance thought angrily._ "I know that most parents' are nicer to other kids than their own, but this is ridiculous."

He dashed up to his bedroom, changing out of his alcohol-infused clothes and into another outfit. Instinctively, he rushed to his desk and pulled out his journal. Vance had so much to say, but no one to say it to.

 _I want to kill, you have to believe me. I've never felt like this before, but the urge is too strong now, and I don't know if I can hide it. I almost burned Remington University to the ground tonight, and I only have one regret..._

 _...that I didn't actually do it._

 _Heathcliff told me that if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be on the pedestal he's put me on. But I don't wanna be on that fucking pedestal. I'd give anything to just live my life in freedom and in peace, without some cruel ventriloquist controlling my every move. Benny Finn was a true friend and I sold him out, and for what? To become another Heather._

 _If there's one thing the world could do without, it's more Heathers._

 _Tomorrow, I'll be apologising to him profusely, begging for forgiveness. But please, just for tonight, let me dream of a world without Heathcliff Chandler. A world where I am free._

Vance finished scribbling and furiously, he threw the journal in the direction of his bedroom window. As it dropped to the floor, a face emerged through the window, making him jump out of his skin.

It was Jennifer Dean.

"Dreadful etiquette, I apologise."

Vance's jaw dropped open, so many questions were filling his mind: How did she know his address? How did she know which window was his bedroom? How long had she been planning to do this? Where did she get a ladder from? Why was she stalking him?

And yet, he was overjoyed to see her. Jennifer seemed like the only person who understood him and his hate for the Heathers. Her presence was almost comforting to him.

"That's okay."

Jennifer smiled at him. "I noticed you have a croquet set in your garden. Wanna play?"

Vance nodded, smiling back.

The pair of them went into their back garden, setting up the game. There was something oddly invigorating, Jennifer coming to his house late at night, everyone asleep, unaware of them being together. This was precisely the freedom he had been wishing for.

"Mind if I be blue? It's my favourite colour, other than black. You don't have black, though." Jennifer asked innocently.

Vance hesitated. Blue, after all, was _his_ colour. However, he was ready to change.

"Go for it," he replied.

"So, which colour do you want to be?" She asked. "Red, yellow or green?"

Vance pondered it over, before deciding. He wished he could've seen the look on Heathcliff's face. "...I'll be red."

They played a few rounds, taking it seriously at first. Then, they started to mess around, not caring who was scoring the most points. Jennifer and Vance laughed at the top of their voices, without a care or worry in the world. She had completely taken his mind away from the horror of the college party, and this was the most fun he ever had playing croquet.

The more time he spent with Jennifer, the more he became infatuated with her.

Jennifer felt exactly the same way about Vance.

A devilish smile appeared on his lips. "Hey, Jennifer, wanna make this interesting?"

"I thought it was."

"Oh it is, but..." he chuckled. "...I have an idea. It's pretty out-there, but if you're willing-"

"Tell me!" Jennifer interrupted eagerly.

"Well..." he smirked. "Let's say, every time you miss a shot, you remove an item of clothing...everytime I miss a shot..."

" _You_ remove an item of clothing?" She finished. "So, basically, you wanna play strip croquet."

"You up for it?"

"Oh, _I'm_ up for it!" She laughed, ready to take her shot. "But you've seen how bad I am at croquet."

 _"I know."_ Vance thought mischeviously.

He wasn't entirely sure how he had the nerve to suggest that, as it was not normally something he would do. He thought, perhaps, he still had enough vodka in his system to let go of his inhibitions and social cues. Vance had only known Jennifer Dean for a day, yet he felt a strange, sexual connection with her that he hadn't experienced with the other girls at Westerberg.

What started off as a game of caution, soon turned into a game of trying to get naked as quickly as possible; the pair of them deliberately missed easy shots and set themselves up for failure.

Jennifer missed yet another shot, and after having taken off her jacket, shoes and socks, she was left with her dark top and jeans.

"I guess I'm going with my shirt!" She laughed, pulling it over her head, revealing a black bra underneath.

The sight of her was more than Vance could cope with.

Without a second thought, he took his own shirt off.

"It's not your turn yet, Vance!"

"I'm sorry," he chuckled. "I guess I just couldn't wait...you're so beautiful..."

Glancing between him and the croquet set, Jennifer swiftly dropped her croquet mallet onto the grass, and ran over to Vance. They stared into each other's eyes for a second, before embracing into a passionate kiss. Jennifer wrapped her arms around his neck, and Vance had one hand on her waist, another holding the back of her head, feeling her soft dark hair brush against his fingertips. They both lost control, and the rest of their clothes.

Later that night, Vance and Jennifer laid cuddled together under a sheltered area of the garden, covered by a blanket. They had had sex in the garden, and Vance was still in disbelief that it happened, but he had no regrets.

"You're amazing, Vance." She whispered to him. "The Heathers don't deserve to be friends with you; you're nothing like them."

"I hope I'm not," he grinned. "But when the Heathers offer to be your friend, it's like getting an important job opportunity; life changes and you're not sure if it'll be worth it in the end, and you have to make a lot of sacrifices."

"Why can't you just stop hanging around with them?"

"That's just not how it works," he told her. "If you stop being friends with them, you won't just be like all the other kids and float under the radar...you'll become the lowest of the low. No one'll want to sit with you, and you'll spend the rest of your high school career being whispered about by everyone."

"I'm pretty sure that person you're describing is _me_ ," Jennifer replied. "After all, I did almost shoot up a couple of cheerleaders on my first day."

"Hey, they were just blanks, there was no way it could have killed them." Vance laughed. "And besides, it was pretty awesome."

Jennifer smiled, resting her head on Vance's chest. "I wish I could've killed _Heathcliff Chandler_ , especially because of the way he's treated you tonight. He's one asshole that deserves to die."

"Thanks, but killing him won't solve anything."

She thought about it. "...How about we just make him really sick, then? Bring over a fake 'hangover cure' in the morning and see what happens?"

"That could work." Vance replied, pulling Jennifer closer towards him and kissing her forehead.


End file.
